


Partners in Crime

by Brumeier



Category: The Three Investigators | Die drei ??? - Various Authors, The Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: Trixie Belden, freshly graduated from high school, is determined to find her soulmate.





	Partners in Crime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vanillafluffy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/gifts).



> Written for Whatif_AU Anniversary Challenge: soulmates & lost/stranded

**Greyhound Bus, New York to California, 1966**

Trixie Belden could barely contain herself, too excited about the adventure she was embarking on. Just imagine! Freshly graduated from high school with her whole life ahead of her, and she was traveling cross-country to find her perfect someone to share it with.

Her brother Mart was less enthusiastic. “Ow! Hey, will you please sit still? I can’t take another elbow to my already bruised epidermis.”

“What do you think it’ll be like?” Trixie asked, unapologetic. It wasn’t her fault Moms and Dad insisted she have a chaperone. She was perfectly capable of traveling on her own.

“California? Or finding this supposed soulmate of yours?”

“Both!”

Trixie and her friends had done a lot of traveling together when they were all still in high school, but they’d never visited California. It seemed so glamorous there, with the beaches and the movie stars and the vineyards. She’d done her share of research – if reading back issues of Look Magazine could be considered so – and she couldn’t wait to be part of the scene.

“I still say you’re being juvenile about this whole thing,” Mart said. “As I’ve pointed out to you on multiple occasions, the statistical probability of you randomly locating your soulmate is –”

“You can spare me the number crunching, thank you,” Trixie retorted. “And maybe you should enjoy the trip. Two more months and you’ll be back at college, nose to the grindstone.”

Mart just grumbled and pulled a book out of his backpack. Who brought a textbook on a vacation? Sometimes Trixie wondered if she and Mart were actually related, much less almost-twins. Still, she supposed it was better than traveling with Brian, who’d been way too busy with medical school to even entertain the idea of accompanying his little sister on a fool’s mission, as he’d called it.

“Excuse me.” The woman across the aisle from Trixie leaned over her armrest. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but did you say you’re looking for your soulmate?”

Trixie nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I am! I just graduated, and I don’t want to make any plans about my future until I meet him.”

“That’s so romantic. We don’t have soulmates in our family.” The woman was much older than Trixie, looking around her mother’s age, and she was wearing a wedding ring. 

Trixie and Knut were the only ones in their generation of the Belden family to have Soulmarks. Her paternal grandmother and her siblings had them too, but they seemed to have skipped a generation.

“Did you see Elizabeth Taylor’s new movie, _Soulmate Sunrise_? I cried at the end.” 

“I’ve seen every soulmate movie,” Trixie said. “My favorite is _The Red Thread_ , with Rock Hudson and Deborah Kerr. I could watch that a million times.”

“Ultra-glamorized Hollywood nonsense,” Mart grumbled, never looking up from his book.

“How do you know your soulmate is in California?” the woman asked.

“I’m really good at solving mysteries,” Trixie replied. “Someday I’ll be a famous detective, like Nora Charles or Sam Spade.”

The woman didn’t press for details, or ask to see Trixie’s Soulmark, which would have been considered poor manners. It wasn’t like Trixie could really explain the first thing, except that she’d carefully studied a map of the United States and it was like California stood out from the others, the borders of it seeming to almost glow.

She wouldn’t have minded sharing her Mark though, which was a stylized question mark on the tender underside of her wrist, hidden away by the soft cotton band her mother had made for her; blue to match her eyes. That question mark had come to represent questions unanswered and mysteries unsolved, and informed Trixie’s drive to seek out the truth. She sometimes wondered if she was just naturally inquisitive or if the Mark had made her so.

“I hope you find him,” the woman across the aisle said.

“I hope so too.”

**Hollywood, California, 1966**

Trixie was hopelessly lost, and it was all her own fault. She’d insisted on making Hollywood their base of operations but let Mart take care of all the boring details like booking them a hotel. She was more interested in seeing the handprints in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, or maybe catching a glimpse of movie stars coming and going from one of the movie lots. 

Trixie had been so eager to take a look around she’d sent Mart ahead with the luggage. Only now she couldn’t remember the name of the hotel and Mart was never going to let her live it down. If she ever found him.

Luckily she’d worn tennis shoes with her jumper, because she was doing a lot of walking. Trixie only had a little bit of cash on hand and she didn’t want to waste it taking a taxi, even if she knew where to direct one. And really, it was a nice place to be lost what with all the palm trees and the bright sunshine.

She window shopped as she walked, every store she passed much too high end for her budget. The displays were full of miniskirts and mod patterns and bright colors, things Trixie would never feel comfortable wearing even as she admired them. Moms made most of her clothes, in sensible styles and patterns. Where on Earth would she ever wear a dress that looked like an unfinished crossword puzzle?

It was in a window’s reflection that Trixie saw the man who ducked down an alley. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about that, but less than a minute later he was followed by another man who looked like he was doing his level best not to be noticed. That set Trixie’s internal radar pinging and she crossed the street at the next crosswalk, intent on following.

_You need to look before you leap_ , said the voice in Trixie’s head that sounded an awful lot like Jim.

Of all the Bob-Whites, Jim had been the least understanding of her trying to find her soulmate. He’d been sweet on Trixie for a long time and hoped she’d give up on finding her perfect someone so they could be together. Trixie loved Jim, but only in the same way she loved Honey and Dan and Di and her brothers.

The alley was lined with dumpsters, trash bins, and parked cars, a lot more open and tidy than the alleys she’d seen in New York City. Trixie could hear the sound of two men arguing and she made her way cautiously forward, sticking close to the dumpsters in case she needed to duck behind one for cover.

“…money, didn’t you?”

“You can’t prove that.”

“Oh, I’ll prove it. And when I do, you’ll be incarcerated for the next ten years.”

Trixie could see them now. Both men were facing each other, and neither one could’ve been more than twenty years old. One was tall, with a scruffy beard and a leather jacket that was cracked and worn. The other was stockier but clean-shaven, dark hair hanging haphazardly across his forehead and almost in his eyes. He was wearing a shirt with bright orange flowers all over it.

It was the guy in the brightly-patterned shirt that was accusing the other man of something illegal. Before Trixie could think of anything to do, Scruffy Beard punched the other guy right in the jaw and knocked him down. He was pulling back his foot to administer a kick when Trixie did the only thing she could think of: she put her fingers between her lips and let out the Bob-White whistle as loud as she could. _Bob, bob-White! Bob, bob-White_!

Scruffy Beard looked up, startled, and then ran away. Trixie ran to help the other man, who was rubbing at his jaw.

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

She offered him a hand up and when he took it all the air seemed to bleed out of Trixie’s lungs. She looked down at the man and he stared back up at her with wide eyes, and she just _knew_.

“That whistle,” he said. “The Bobwhite quail.”

All Trixie could do was nod, struck dumb. She pulled the man up but didn’t let go of his hand. He wore a black leather cuff on one wrist, which he pulled off with his teeth since he didn’t seem much inclined to let go of Trixie’s hand either. He held his arm up to show his Soulmark: a speckled Bobwhite, the namesake of Trixie’s childhood club.

“Bobwhites are species Odontophoridae, native to eastern North America. Their wingspan can be up to fifteen inches long. They eat plants and small invertebrates, wild berries…and I can’t seem to stop talking.”

Trixie reluctantly let go of his hand and pulled the blue cloth off her wrist. She showed her question mark Mark, breath catching again when the man traced it with one fingertip.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Trixie Belden. I just got here from New York.”

“Jupiter Jones. My friends call me Jupe. I…what are you doing here? In this alley, I mean.”

“I saw you following that other man and I thought there might be trouble.” Trixie couldn’t stop looking at Jupe, memorizing the details of his face. The shape of his lips, the dark brown of his eyes, the slope of his nose.

“So you shadowed us? That was incredibly foolhardy.”

Trixie shrugged. “I’ve often been accused of jumping in where angels fear to tread. And it turned out you needed my help.”

Jupe raised his eyebrows at that. “Indeed. Well, your presence was fortuitous, there’s no use denying the facts. Perhaps we should vacate the alley and find someplace better suited to talking. Where are you staying?”

Trixie’s face flamed. Of course she’d have to embarrass herself right off the bat. “Actually, I’m a little lost. My brother came out with me and he made the hotel arrangements.”

“And you don’t remember the name of the hotel,” Jupe surmised. 

“I do know it’s in Hollywood.”

“Hardly helpful. Hotels are a dime a dozen here. Perhaps you’d like to…I mean, I don’t live too far from here. Just over in Rocky Beach. I’d be happy to make some phone calls, see if we can find which hotel you’ve been registered at.”

“Really? That would be great! Thank you!”

Jupe seemed to hesitate for a moment and then he held his hand out. Trixie reached for it immediately, slotting their fingers together. A tingle of warmth shivered up her arm and she smiled shyly at Jupe. 

“It’s really nice to meet you,” she said.

“Likewise,” Jupe replied.

**Rocky Beach, California, 1966**

Trixie’s soulmate was quirky. He drove an old ’47 Studebaker, which looked like it had been through a war. And he lived in a junkyard, one surrounded by a colorfully painted board fence and entered through a massive set of iron gates that looked like they’d come from a gothic mansion.

As he’d explained on the drive, Jupe lived with his aunt and uncle – he was an orphan – and helped to run the junkyard in addition to taking college courses at Pacific Tech. He’d also explained about the question mark, which was the symbol of the club he and his friends used to have: The Three Investigators. That’s how Trixie knew he really was her soulmate; they shared a passion for solving mysteries.

Jupe set Trixie up on the house phone and gave her N through Z in the yellow pages under Hotels. He took A through M on the business line in his uncle’s office. They made calls for a good twenty minutes before Jupe let out a triumphant cry and beckoned Trixie into the office.

“You and your brother are registered at the Seimber. They’re patching me through to the room.” Jupe handed Trixie the phone.

_Trixie? Is that you?_

“Yes, it’s me. I –”

_Where have you been? I’ve been going crazy looking for you! Are you okay? Where are you?_

“Take a breath, would you? I got lost and couldn’t remember what hotel we were staying at. I’m at Jupiter’s, we’ve been calling around trying to find you.”

_Jupiter? Who’s that? You know you can’t just trust random strangers, Trixie. Especially out here._

“He’s him. I mean, Jupe. He’s my soulmate. I found him!”

There was silence on the line and Trixie worried her lower lip. Mart was going to think she’d lost her marbles. He’d never believed she’d find her soulmate, not really, and especially not on her very first day in California. She hardly believed it herself.

_Are you sure?_

Trixie looked at Jupe. “I’m sure. And I want you to meet him.”

She gave Mart the address for the junkyard – Jupe called it a salvage yard – and hung up the phone. She and Jupe stared at each other and she wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next. Her stomach decided for her by loudly rumbling.

“Lunch it is,” Jupe said with a grin.

He made them sandwiches and they sat at the kitchen table, which looked out over the junkyard. There were countless unique and bizarre items stacked up out there, including cars to a carnival ride, an old-fashioned wrought iron light pole, marble birdbaths, and a powder blue hearse. It was fascinating, especially considering each item had its own story to tell.

“So do you have a plan now that you’re here?” Jupe asked. “Will you…are you staying in California?”

He sounded uncertain, and Trixie couldn’t blame him because she felt the same way. Like Deborah Kerr said in _The Red Thread_ , a soulmate was no guarantee of a happy future.

“I’d like to. This is the perfect place for me to live out my dream.”

“To be a private detective,” Jupe clarified. Trixie had told him about the Bob-Whites on the drive to Rocky Beach.

“It’s been my dream as long as I can remember. Honey’s too, for a while, but sometimes thing change. She wants to work with disadvantaged children. I can’t really blame her for that.”

Jupe nodded. “My friends weren’t as invested in our joint endeavor as I was. Now that Bob’s out in Malibu going to school to be a newspaper man like his dad and Pete’s been drafted…it’s just me, carrying on.”

They needed each other, Trixie thought. Investigators without a team. Jupe had certainly needed backup today, but before she could ask him about his case Mart arrived, escorted by one of the two big German brothers who worked in the yard.

Mart gave Trixie a big hug, admonishing her yet again for getting herself into dangerous situations. Then he turned his keen eye on Jupe, giving him a lengthy once-over before offering his hand.

“Mart Belden. Trixie’s brother.”

“Jupiter Jones. Trixie’s…ah…”

They shook hands and Jupe made Mart a sandwich too. Trixie filled him in on all the pertinent details about her misadventure and her soulmate, and then had to listen to Mart tell Jupe about all the times she’d put herself in deadly danger just to solve a mystery, including that time she, Jim and Honey had almost drowned trying to find evidence of sheep-napping. 

“So what happens now?” Mart asked after he’d wound down.

“That does seem to be the question at hand,” Jupe replied. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Lead on, Macduff,” Mart said.

“That’s actually a misquote, you know. The original line in _Macbeth_ is actually ‘Lay on, Macduff’ which has a different meaning altogether. It’s a common mistake.”

“He’s almost as insufferable as you,” Trixie told Mart cheerfully.

Jupe’s plan was for Trixie and Mart to continue with their planned vacation, only he would accompany them to act as tour guide and also so he and Trixie could become better acquainted with the proper supervision. It was old-fashioned, but Moms and Dad would approve.

“But first we’ll help you with your case,” Trixie insisted. She narrowed her eyes at the bruise along Jupe’s jaw from where that other guy had clocked him. 

Mart sighed. “I suspected you’d insist on that.”

“You suspected correctly.”

Jupe offered to drive them back to their hotel, but Mart didn’t want to put him out and called for a taxi instead.

“I’ll just go wait by the road,” he said, giving Trixie a significant look.

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Trixie promised Jupe. “For a council of war!”

Jupe took hold of Trixie’s hand, pulling her closer. “I know we only just met, and I shouldn’t be presumptuous merely because we share a connection commonly assumed to be romantic in nature, but –”

Trixie leaned up and kissed him, a chaste press of lips that nonetheless sent shivers up and down her spine. She’d never been so forward with a boy before, but Jupe was different. He was her _soulmate_. And she felt like she could kiss him forever.

“Trixie!” Mart called from the gate. “Time to go!”

She pulled back, pleased to see Jupe looking at her with a glassy-eyed expression. He was clearly just as affected as she was.

“See you tomorrow, Jupiter Jones,” she said. And ran off to meet up with Mart.

**Hollywood, California, 1969**

The office door opened up, setting the bells to ringing, but Trixie didn’t need to look up from the typewriter to know it was Jupe. She was putting the finishing touches on her report, tongue poked between her teeth as she typed carefully so as not to make another mistake.

Jupe waited for her to pull the paper out of the carriage, which she did with a flourish, before he tugged her out of her chair and kissed her soundly. Trixie wound her arms around him, smiling into the kiss.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Do I need a reason?”

“No. But I know you have one.”

Jupe kissed her again, this one brief. “We have a new case. And I believe you’re going to be pleased.”

“Well? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“There’s trouble out on one of the movie lots. Some vandalism and threatening notes, mostly. We’ve been asked to look into it before the entire film gets sabotaged.”

Trixie bounced on her toes. Finally! A true Hollywood case! “Whose movie?”

“Who’s your favorite actress?”

Trixie clapped her hand to her mouth. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Deborah Kerr? We’re going to meet Deborah Kerr?”

“They’re even paying us for the privilege.”

Trixie hugged Jupe. “Oh, goodness! I can’t believe it! Wait till Honey hears about this! When do we start?”

“After lunch?”

Trixie broke away and ran behind the desk, filing her latest report so quickly she crumpled the paper. “Let’s go!”

“It’s barely ten o’clock!” Jupe protested.

“Then we’ll call it brunch.” Trixie breezed out the door, knowing Jupe would follow. Which he did, after locking up behind them.

The world was changing, seemingly every day, but as long as there was a mystery to be solved Trixie would be there looking for clues with her partner in crime at her side. And that was something that would never change.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156598319@N08/26921802447/in/dateposted-friend/)

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** I have been a Trixie Belden fan for as long as I can remember. I have the whole series of books. I used to have quite a few Three Investigators books as well, but now I just have the very first one, _The Secret of Terror Castle_. I’ve discovered a like-minded fan at comment_fic, vanillafluffy, and have been leaving specific prompts for my own entertainment. The fills have been awesome, and also inspired me to write something of my own. I love fandom!
> 
> I took some liberties with the time period. The first Three Investigators book was published in 1964. And the Trixie book I pulled off the shelf to review, _The Happy Valley Mystery_ , was published in 1962.


End file.
